


Among The Fae

by msmami



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Banshee Moira O'Deorain, F/F, Fae & Fairies, Implied Sexual Content, Sugar Plum Fairy Mercy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-15 21:35:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16941168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msmami/pseuds/msmami
Summary: Even in the vastness of a distant forest a while off from her village, she should have expected she’d be followed. “You…”





	Among The Fae

She had been walking for days now, marked by the rise and fall of a helpful moon and the dreadful sunlight she often shrouded herself from under the groves of trees. With no man made kingdoms to navigate around, Moira had a practiced path to follow for the sake of her own safety.

A thick enough cloak and she could be passed off as a wandering beggar, but her milky stare and the air of death that followed her would have her lynched or drowned, as if that could possibly put an end to her reign. Her time would come to haunt the humans when another plague consumed their homes and she would reap the benefits and collect their souls and bones to her liking. Perhaps another skull to fasten her belt with or the tip of a forgotten weapon to hastily sew into her fabric for armor. 

Even when she was alone in the wilderness, she stuck out like a thorn in a daisy field. Among all this life, all these gentle creatures, all these plants that reeked of an eternal spring, she was a shadow of mourning walking on foreign soil. The urge to destroy was so overwhelming in the warm depths of nauseating, constant existence.

A fae of her kind had no business being here, and yet she stalked this land not just for a prize but the hopes of avoiding something far less malevolent but certainly more aggravating than she.

“So good to see another of our kind so far from home!”

Moira felt bile in her throat, digging her teeth into her thin lip as the saccharine bell of a voice mocked her just a little over her shoulder. She stopped in her tracks, her bare, shackled feet holding their ground. Even in the vastness of a distant forest a while off from her village, she should have expected she’d be followed. “ _You_ …”

She turned around violently, anger distorting her hollowed features into a fixed scowl.

The fairy in question only giggled, her expression awfully smug and amused as she danced her staff from hand to hand with an aggravating casualness. 

The “sugar plum” the “angel in fairy wings”, the pain in Moira’s side for over a millennium who was deemed the saving grace of healing magic for generations. 

Angela was such an intense shade of greens and violets that she could have easily been mistaken for a hummingbird or June bug. The rapid pace of her wings kept her afloat, fluttering against her exposed back and leaving a trail of pollen like dust everywhere she went until she finally settled into a soft flutter. She was no bigger than Moira's hand in this size though no less irritating.

“Don’t look like that, _schatzli_! Didn’t you miss me?” Angela batted her eyelashes at this, an old trick that worked wonders on humans but never a banshee of Moira’s age and wisdom…Well, at least it didn’t work on her right now at this very moment.

“Begone, girl.” Moira replied curtly, waving her hand as if she were warding off a bothersome fly. “There are no games to be played here.”

Angela seemed to take no heed to this warning, a grin spreading over her full lips. She hovered just a bit closer, a finger to her chin as she studied Moira’s expression.

“Really?” She said coyly, and soon enough Angela was enveloped in a cloud of violet smoke. As sweet smelling as it was tart, its scent and just the tip of Angela’s nose was trapping Moira’s face. “I can think of a game we haven’t played in a _long_ time.”

The little details of her visage were a little more clear now: the soft dip of her heart shaped face, the crown of oversized butterfly wings that topped her messy moss green hair, and the long ears that identified her as a fairy of more benevolent power than Moira had been birthed from the swamp with.

She was much closer to Moira’s full body now, and Moira could make out the very much womanly body beneath the petals and scales that made up Angela’s gown.

One would probably have to squint to properly make out the generous width of Angela’s hips and rich chest hugged by a curved neckline in her usual pixie form. Convenient for travel, not so much for the seduction her kind was eerily capable of.

Moira could sense the many moons before flashing back, the faintest reminders of their time together having disappeared from Angela’s fair skin, but Moira could still remember it-see it, taste it, _want it_ …

Moira backed away before any further temptation could overtake her, trying to regain her composure despite the heat in her cheeks reminding her that she did in fact still have blood in her veins.

“You must think me a fool to fall for your tricks again.”

“A trick?” Angela asked. “No, no it was no magic that caused that private moment of ours, _schatzli._ Not everything has to be smoke and mirrors, you know?”

“You gravely misunderstand,” Moira replied. “What happened between us was a slip of the tongue and I take full responsibility for my actions.”

“Drunk on the fairy’s nectar, the two of us.” Angela said, her expression whimsical as if the evening they spent rummaging in the woods wasn’t an insubordinate mess. “But that doesn’t mean we didn’t enjoy ourselves any less.”

Moira blew out a puff of air from her nose and began walking deeper into the woods again, hearing the tip-toe of Angela’s ballet flats just a few steps behind her.

Her and Angela were the same species, yes, but not even close to being of the same class or realm. One could easily mistake Moira as a bog witch or reanimated corpse with her graying skin and black nails.

The rags she wore for clothes not looking any more decent over the few more decades she would wear them again and again and the white hair that smelled of swamp water and spider webs gave off all the possible warning signs that she was a beacon of death of decay.

Moira was no less a fairy than Angela, even if she did lack the gloss of beautiful wings and the subtle hues of lavender that graced Angela’s skin. She was no blessing made out of Mother Earth’s honey and rosebuds and fresh spring dew, but a creature of destruction and despair. It been like that for years and she intended to keep it that way.

Moira simply didn’t agree to their types interacting with one another, let alone engaging in coitus for the whole world to see. A mistake she would never make again and had no intention of anyone figuring out if she could keep the fellow fairy’s mouth shut long enough.

“ _Schatzli_ …” Angela sing-songed just an inch from Moira’s ear. She placed a careful hand against the small of Moira’s back, the warmth of Angela’s touch gracing the gray skin. “I was honestly worried when you disappeared. I checked your cabin and didn’t get a response. So I was only doing my civic duty to come find you.”

“Can you please just leave me be?”

“Not until you come back,” Angela wrapped her arms around Moira’s waist, standing up on the tips of her flats to better rest her chin against Moira’s shoulder. “You’re the wisest banshee among us, after all. Be a shame for you to be gone any longer.”

Moira pouted, her original hostility replaced with embarrassment. Angela was so incredibly warm. She was a creature of the living but also of sunlight and gooseberries, the exact same contents of her wine that had thrown Moira into that heated drunken stooper. 

She injested something sweet, Angela drifted in the graying fields of a banshee’s home territory-perhaps they were both guilty for breaking the norm.

“Never thought you’d take a step out of your treasured valley to find me. I’m flattered.”

Angela peppered Moira’s cheek with a kiss. “You know I can never tell when you banshees are joking.”

“If I really wanted you to leave, I would have screamed by now.”

“Fair enough,”

“But I do have business to attend to,” Moira said, shrugging off Angela’s grip. “There are some very rare weeds growing in this forest that only arrive once every few years. It will be some time until I can make this journey again.”

“Ah, the wicker weeds I’ve heard so much about,” Angela seemed intrigued. “Well, I’d be more than happy to see them for myself. That is, if you still request my company.”

Moira thought for a moment before meekly replying, "I suppose it would be dangerous to travel alone...and awful lonely. Very well."

"It be an honor," Angela took a few steps ahead of Moira's slow pace, her wings in an eager flutter. "There were some mushrooms I just had to grab. They work wonders in love potions, but I don’t believe that will be necessary.”

**Author's Note:**

> written in about one day and inspired by this piece of banshee/sugar plum fairy fan art by awfulwafulart: https://twitter.com/Awfulwafulart/status/1071435952680243200


End file.
